In Your Eyes // Steve Rogers

42

A month passed since Lagos. A month filled with self pity, doubt within the Avengers' power, and our fate in question. Some called for our 'overdue' arrest. There were some who defended our actions. Needless to say, no one knew exactly what to do.

Steve and I spoke about it every night since it had happened. That particular day, I sat on his lap in a computer seat, watching the King of Wakanda respond to what occurred to his people.

Avengers Indictment?
World Reaction to Violence

"...eleven Wakandans were killed during a confrontation between the Avengers and a group of mercenaries in Lagos, Nigera last month. The traditionally reclusive Wakandans were on an outreach mission in Lagos when the attack occurred..."

King T'Chaka of Wakanda
Demands Accountability from Avengers

"Our people's blood is spilled on foreign soil. Not only because of the actions of criminals, but by the indifference of those pledged to stop them. Victory at the expense of the innocent is no victory at all..."

Steve took the remote and shut the television off. His hands clasped under my stomach. I laid my own hands on his own, laying back against his chest. "It's like they think we walk away from this unaffected," I mumbled.

"There are some who do believe that," said Steve.

"What do they expect us to do?" I asked. "Responsibility for our actions is something we do take, but I don't know how we're supposed to fix what we did."

"Tony's supposed to be coming by today with a way to own up for it," he said.

"What? When?"

"Vision said he would let me know when Tony got here. I don't know... He sounded strange on the phone, Clara..."

"Strange as in...?" I asked.

"Don't know, honestly," said Steve. He patted my hips. I stood. He took my hand. I didn't have to ask where we were heading. My question was answered in the way his face changed. He lost his own emotions, put on a brave face, for her. She needed more assuring than both of us combined.

It didn't help that she was intently watching the news when we arrived in her room. Steve looked for the remote quietly. Wanda hadn't noticed. She sat curled up in her bed, hand holding her head up. Her fingers danced across her cheeks, wiping the few frustrated tears. Steve turned the television off.

Seconds hadn't passed before she whispered, "It's my fault."

"That's not true," said Steve.

"Turn the T.V. back on. They're being very specific," said Wanda, scoffing a little.

I took a seat on the bed. I laid back. "I should have covered you better. The only place I didn't have a portal ready for you..."

"I should have caught that bomb long before you had to deal with it," added Steve. He sat on the opposite side of her. "Rumlow said, 'Bucky,' and all of a sudden, I was a sixteen year old kid again in Brooklyn... People died. It's on me."

Wanda shook her head. "It's on all of us," she negotiated.

"This job, you try to save as many people as you can. Sometimes that doesn't mean everybody. But if you can't live with that, maybe next time, nobody gets saved," said Steve. He shrugged his shoulders, allowing the scenario to live within Wanda's mind for a moment.

She didn't get the chance to answer. Through the wall phased Vision, startling Steve and I.

"Vis," sighed Wanda. "We talked about this."